


you and me. we're getting a divorce.

by themidsummersoldier



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Roommates, platonic bffs skye and lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themidsummersoldier/pseuds/themidsummersoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>\\\ “I swear, I will never understand the appeal of standing in line for six hours just so you can see the first showing of a movie.” /// “That’s because you’re boring.”\\\</p><p> /// in which skye and lance are a fake couple, bobbi and lance are a real couple, and mrs. smith and her cane are the ultimate otp. \\\</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me. we're getting a divorce.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr 8-9-15. a quick one-shot based on the following anon prompt:
> 
> Anonymous asked: Normal!AU where Lance and Daisy are roommates and even though they are just platonic bffs they delight in convincing their neighbors that they're dating. Everything is fine until one day it all backfires when Lance brings Bobbi home for the first time and she kisses him in the hallway and 87 year old Mrs. Smith from down the hall flies out of her apartment screaming about him being a cheater and attacks him with her cane.

-

“I swear, I will never understand the appeal of standing in line for six hours _just_ so you can see the first showing of a movie.”

“That’s because you’re _boring_.”

Lance Hunter leaned back against the railing on the balcony of his apartment and observed the young woman in front of him.

“Me. Boring?” he asked, his voice purposefully blank.

Skye simply rolled her eyes and joined him at the edge of the balcony, staring down at the New York street below them.

“You know, it’s not _just_ a movie, it’s the blockbuster event of the summer,” she pointed out, after a few seconds of silence.

“Well, _excuse_ me if I’m not into… _superhero shenanigans_ like you are,” Hunter said, turning the words “superhero shenanigans” into something that sounded offensive.

“Nobody says ‘shenanigans’,” Skye chided him. Lance just smirked, crossing his arms in front of him.

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Skye offered again, picking a string off the sleeve of her shirt and letting it float down to the ground below, “You won’t be bored here all alone?”

“I might not actually be ‘all alone’,” Lance said coyly, judging Skye’s reaction out of the corner of his eye, “I was thinking of asking Bobbi if she wanted to come over.”

“That girl Izzy introduced you to?”

Lance nodded.

“I didn’t know you guys were that close.”

“We’ve, _gone out_ , a few times,” Lance admitted.

“Oo-oooh,” Skye teased, poking Hunter in the stomach. He immediately pushed her hand away and the faintest of blushes spread across his cheeks.

“Not like that,” he insisted.

“Oh, of course not,” Skye agreed, pretending to be serious, “And, FYI, as long as you don’t do anything weird in the kitchen this time, I really don’t care who you have over.”

“When have I _ever_ -”

Lance’s protest was cut off by the sound of a door slamming a few balconies down, and both he and Skye turned to see who had made the noise.

Two apartments down, on a balcony that nearly disappeared in a thick layer of flowers and vines, old Mrs. Smith stood with her rusted watering can in one hand, and her ornate wooden cane in he other. Ever so slowly, she made her way to the side of the balcony closest to Lance and Skye’s apartment, and began the process of watering the jungle she called her garden.

Biting her lip, Skye gave Lance “The Look”, and effortlessly switched her voice into a whine, “ _Baaaabe_ , are you sure you can’t come to the movies with me?”

Lance leaned close, rubbing up and down Skye’s arm with his thumb, and pitching his voice low, “Darling, you know I want to, but I’ve just got so much work to catch up on. I’ll go next time, I promise.”

He ventured a glance over Mrs. Smith. Although the old woman’s eyes stayed focused on her task, Hunter could tell that she was drinking up every word they said. Mrs. Smith lived alone, with no family nearby, and it seemed that the highlight of her life was listening to and spreading apartment complex gossip. Hiding a grin, Lance looked back at Skye.

“You go out and have a good time with your friends,” he told her, “I’ll just be here, all by my lonesome, wishing I was with you.”

“Awwww,” Skye cooed, brushing the stubble on Lance’s face with the back of her hand, “That’s so sweet.”

Neither Skye nor Lance could remember when or why they had started the fake couple act, but they both knew that they were in far too deep to ever turn back. Half of their floor was convinced that they were dating, and the other half thought they were married. Just last week, Mr. Foster in 14C had told Lance that his daughter would be “more than willing to babysit for them”, so Lance was pretty sure that the baby rumors had finally started to fly. Mrs. Smith was by far the biggest perpetrator, not just of the Lance and Skye rumors, but of all rumors on their floor. He could just imagine her with a chair pulled up to the peephole of her door, watching as the occupants of the neighboring apartments went about their lives.

“I really do have to go,” Skye’s hushed, normal voice broke through Lance’s thoughts. He nodded, then pretended to look torn as she walked back into their shared living room. He supposed it was only natural for people to assume that a young man and woman living alone together must be romantically involved with each other, although the thought of being “romantically involved” with Skye made Lance’s stomach turn. She was his best friend, yes, and he did love her, but not in that sort of way. _Never_ in that sort of way. Shaking his head, Lance took one more look at Mrs. Smith, who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was watching him. Smiling forlornly, he waved at her, and then followed Skye inside.

—

“So your roommate is out for the night?” Bobbi asked, as the elevator doors opened and deposited them onto the fourteenth floor. Taking Bobbi’s hand in his own, Lance began slowly meandering his way down the long hallway to his and Skye’s apartment.

“She’s at some movie premiere with her friends from work, won’t be back for at least another six hours,” Lance explained, swinging his arm back and forth, which caused Bobbi to mimic his own movements, “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves.”

Bobbi shot him a sly look, “And what are we going to do with the whole place to ourselves?”

“Whatever we feel like,” Lance answered, making a grand, sweeping motion with his free hand, “As long as we don’t do anything weird in the kitchen.”

Bobbi raised an eyebrow.

“I may have destroyed a few waffle makers over the years.

Bobbi snorted, then raised a hand and spoke seriously, “I promise, Skye won’t even know I was there.”

Lance grinned, stopped a few doors away from the end of the hall, and pulled on Bobbi’s hand to turn her towards him. Leaning forward, he rose up on his toes and snuck a kiss on Bobbi’s lips. The smile that spread over her face caused Lance’s own expression to mirror her’s. Bobbi tilted her head towards his, bringing their lips close-

“ _Shame!_ ”

A voice from the door behind them startled Bobbi so much that she instinctively assumed a defensive pose, nearly wrenching Hunter’s arm out of its socket in the process.

“ _Shame on you_!”

The aforementioned door flew open, and Mrs. Smith began making her way surprisingly quickly towards Lance, her wooden cane raised threateningly above her head.

“Telling sweet, _sweet_ Skye that you’re “too busy” to go to the movies with her, and then bringing this- this- _she-devil_ home with you!“ Mrs. Smith was screeching at this point, using one hand to keep her floor length flannel nightgown hiked up above her feet, and still waving the wooden cane. Before Lance could react, she was suddenly beside him, bringing her cane down hard. He barely had time to move, and just managed to deflect Mrs. Smith’s blow with the back of his arm.

“Cheating on your pregnant wife!” Mrs. Smith’s face was turning red as she gathered her strength for another swing.

“Your _what_?” Bobbi yelped, staring at Lance with wide eyes, “What is she-”

“How could you be so cruel?” Mrs. Smith interrupted, her voice almost a growl.

Lance wasn’t so lucky the second time her cane came flying down. The heavy wooden end made a wonderful cracking noise as it came in contact with his cheekbone. Pain blossomed across Hunter’s face, a burning pain that threatened to black out his vision. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blonde hair, and he heard Mrs. Smith let out a sharp gasp.* Lance struggled to keep himself upright as the pain in his cheek continued to spread throughout his body. Before he could brace himself against the wall, the ground was suddenly rushing up towards his face, and he shut his eyes in anticipation of an impact that never came.

—

Skye had a tendency to imagine things when it got late at night. Or, in this case, early in the morning. Like that time she and Jemma had stayed up watching all of the Hobbit movies, and Skye had sworn she had seen Smaug flying around outside of her bedroom window. So when she had arrived home at nearly three thirty in the morning and saw an exhausted looking Lance Hunter sitting on their couch, an ice pack pressed up to his face, she thought for sure she was seeing things.

Until Lance spoke.

Gesturing between himself and Skye with the ice pack in his hand, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to come up with anything to say at first. His eyes were bloodshot, and his right cheekbone was a kaleidoscope of purples and blues and greens. Eventually, he croaked,

“You and me. We’re getting a divorce.”

-

**the end.**

-

_*no Mrs. Smiths were seriously harmed in the writing of this fic._


End file.
